


The Witch, the Boy, and the Love Potion

by Miikado



Series: All Your Faves Are Ace [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AroAce Adrien Agrest, AroAce Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aromantic Character, Aromanticism, Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/M, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Acephobia, Self-Acceptance, Witch Marinette, aroace character, miraculace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:53:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miikado/pseuds/Miikado
Summary: Adrien comes to the witch in the woods with a very odd request, and what he gets out of it isn't quite what he expected.
(AroAce fic, can't stop won't stop)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Little Halloween special fic that somehow also fits for the Ace Awareness Week I guess!
> 
> **Warning: This contains references to internal struggles with aphobia. Proceed with caution and do not read this story if you might be trigged by these kinds of things!** Also keep in mind that they do not reflect my own thoughts about aromanticism and asexuality, but instead are inspired by my own struggles with these topics. It's all a happy end, promised, but tread with caution if those are sensitive topics for you.

People talked about a house. There were stories—whispers in the streets, when no one else was listening—about a path outside a secluded village in the countryside. It was said that the trail would lead you away, beyond the small forest of pine trees and oaks, and into a secluded glade concealed by bushes and brambles. In that clearing, there was a house.

And in that house, there was a witch.

Marinette had been doing some long overdue cleaning. It was finally autumn again, with cold winds and warm colours that brought joy to her heart. The pumpkin patch outside her house was thriving, much to her delight—she would be making her favourite red kuri squash soup in no time now—but she knew that with October also came the busiest time for her little shop.

People had odd conceptions about witches. Customers rolled in every week with friendly smiles and opened minds, asking for magical knicks and enchanted knacks. And still you could hear stories about the place being haunted, or cursed, or both.

Marinette didn’t mind, as long as it didn’t interfere with her business, and it didn’t. Sure, she didn’t have patrons lining up outside her house like some other witches she knew, but she was doing perfectly fine as it was. She wasn’t the most gifted of witches, or the best known. And her shop wasn’t the most famous, or the most impressive. It was a small cabin that always had light coming through the windows, and smoke coming from the chimney, and a small wooden sign dangling from the door that read; 

_ Ladybug’s - Potions & Charms. _

But Marinette loved her shop, she loved her town, and she loved the way things were. Especially when late October rolled in; Halloween was right around the corner, and the brunette paid special attention to keep a few cobwebs on the threshold, a couple of flickering lights by the window, and most of all, a bowl full of candies by the door. It wasn’t much, but it always brought a thrill of excitement to the children of the town.

The rest of the shop was less extravagant, designed to cater for the actual clients who came in, and Marinette made a great deal of keeping the place spotless. Which so happened to be what she was in the midst of doing—dusting her potion vials and straightening her jars of herbs—when she was interrupted by the ringing of her front door bell. 

The young witch jumped in surprise, nearly tumbling from the poorly balanced stack of chairs she had climbed to reach the highest shelves. She made it to the ground safely—if only barely—and called out to the newcomer in a singsong voice.

« Coming! »

She skipped her way to the door, eager to start business for the day, and opened it.

Standing in the sill of her front door was surely the most gorgeous man Marinette had ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. He had golden blond hair, and striking green eyes, and a figure worthy of being painted by the most capricious of artists. She felt a rush of heat lick at her cheeks. 

« G-Good morning, » She chimed, and cursed her voice for being much shriller than she had intended. « How may I help you today? »

The boy suddenly seemed hesitant, as if he hadn’t intended on making in this far. It wasn’t a look Marinette hadn’t seen before; People came to her every day with needs of magic spells they hadn’t fully considered using. He shuffled from one foot to another, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck.

« Hi, » Said the boy. « I was maybe looking for a solution to a problem, and a few townspeople recommended your shop? »

Marinette grinned widely and stepped aside, allowing him inside her little shop, assuring that she had the perfect spell to fix whatever his problem was. The boy walked in, still awkward in his movements, and stood in the middle of the shop, taking a moment to look around. Now that Marinette could take a better look at him, she realised the stranger had an odd sense of familiarity to him, although the witch doubted she would have ever forgotten seeing such a face around town.

« Welcome to my humble abode. » Marinette smiled, gesturing theatrically to the wide array of potions, jars and magic grimoires neatly arranged on different shelves. « What were you looking for today? A health potion? A charm for abundant crops? A spell of luck maybe? »

« Erm… » The blonde looked around hesitantly. « I was hoping something more in t-the… The L-Love department? » The end of his sentence was barely over a whisper, and Marinette would have probably missed it has she not been paying close attention.

« Ah. » She said, the reason for the boy’s embarrassment suddenly clearer. Love was a tricky business, even in places where magic was common. Tinkering with someone else’s feelings wasn’t forbidden, per say, but most people had very set opinions about someone magically forcing them to fall in love. Marinette was one of those people. « I might have a few charms for better luck in love, » She said, slightly sullen as she rummaged through a couple of drawers. « But if your intent was to bewitch a love interest than I don’t think I can— »

« A-Actually, » The boy interjected. « It would be for myself. »

The witch stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turning around to face her customer and shooting him a look of pure confusion. « I beg your pardon? »

« I—Ah, err… » The blonde seemed on the verge of having a heart-attack from sheer awkwardness. « I-I have this problem, you see? I-I didn’t—I’ve never—I don’t feel that way? »

Marinette looked at him with intensity, frowning slightly. 

« You don’t feel that way? » She repeated slowly, enunciating every word carefully. 

The boy shook his head.

« What way? Love? »

« Yes. »

« Never? »

« Not once. »

« You’ve never fallen in love? »

« Ever. »

« You’ve never been romantically attracted to anyone, ever. »

« No. »

« What about physically? »

« What? »

« Sex. » Marinette explained, her expression neutral. « Have you ever been sexually attracted to anyone? »

« Isn’t that the same thing? » The boy asked.

« Not even by a long shot. » She shook her head. « Well, have you? »

« Then no… » He admitted, looking shameful.

The witch hummed gravely, offering no further question and allowing a heavy silence to settle in the house. The boy was starting to squirm, rubbing his neck and arm, and generally just trying to consider what to do with his hands. After a few minutes of silence, he couldn’t take it anymore;

« T-That’s why… » He explained. « I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I was hoping you would have something to fix me and— »

He was interrupted when the witch suddenly jumped back, looking shell-shocked, as if someone had just slapped her across the face. Her expression then faded into one of unadulterated fury. She grabbed the boy’s hand, and dragged him further into the house. The boy squeaked, terrified that he had somehow offended the sorceress, and petrified at the thought of what she might do to him as she hauled him through a heavy curtain that separated the shop from the other rooms.

The blonde had expected many things to lay behind that curtain—torture devices, monsters, a corpse or two for good measure maybe—but he certainly hadn’t expected to enter a small, perfectly normal and homely-looking living room. 

The witch pulled him through the room, and sat him down on a soft wine coloured sofa in front of a wooden coffee table. The boy looked up, at a loss, and jumped as she turned around and barked;

« Tikki! » She called out to her familiar, « Put the kettle on the stove! »

And odd insect-looking creature, all in red and black spots, quickly appeared in front of the witch, before nodding and zooming away, disappearing into the kitchen area where soft light filtered through stained-glass windows. The brunette followed suit, leaving the boy alone and confused as she dug through drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. 

A couple of minutes and a whistle of the kettle later, the witch marched back into the living room, setting a steaming cup in front of the boy before taking a seat on the couch across the table. The boy hesitantly took the cup, still under the careful scrutiny of the brunette, and felt the soft scents of cinnamon and clove tickle his nose.

« What is that? » He dared to ask. « A potion? »

« Tea. » Marinette answered.

« Magical tea? »

« Regular tea. Chaï. »

The boy looked down, confused for a moment, before bringing the cup to his lips. He hummed in contentment, only now realising how much fright and the harsh October cold had chilled him to the bones. He drank eagerly, letting the hot beverage warm his body and soul, feeling a lot more at peace. 

The witch was still staring at him with and odd intensity, but waited until the boy had set his cup down on the table to ask;

« What’s your name? »

The blonde hesitated. « Adrien. » He said. « Adrien Agreste. »

Ah. Now Marinette understood better why the stranger’s face had seemed so familiar. Gabriel Agreste was a famous and influential tailor in the neighbouring town. What that man could do with a thread and needle was almost as magical as all of Marinette’s potion vials combined. She’d heard about his son, even seen his face a few times, seeing as the Agreste name’s fame was important enough to hit even secluded villages like hers. 

« You’re far from home, Adrien Agreste. » The witch said.

« I know. » The blonde admitted. « I couldn’t go to someone from home for this, I couldn’t risk anyone knowing… » He sighed. « A friend knew someone who told me to come here. A fortune-teller from town, she said you’d know how to help me. »

Marinette grinned to herself. Alya was a sibyl she’d met when they were both young girls in training. They’d stayed friends after that, despite Alya staying in the capital and Marinette seeking more peaceful work in smaller villages. All things considered, it was no surprise her friend had sent the boy to her.

« I love people. » He said after a while. « I love my friends, and my father. But… It’s not the  _ right _ type of love. It’s not the one that people talk about it stories, the one that’s supposed to be for only that special person, and be different and make me want  _ more… _ »

And it hurt  _ so much _ . Every reminder that True Love was the one thing he should wish for out of life, every story where the “happily ever after” only came when you met that special someone, all those things that screamed that he was incomplete without someone to love… They were like rubbing alcohol on that metaphorical open wound on his chest.

« Can you help? » Adrien asked, becoming slightly restless. « Will you fix me? »

Because he was desperate for help, for anything to fix this, to change how he was—Who he was, even. What kind of inhumane monster didn’t love? What freak of nature didn’t long for human touch? He was desperate, and he was  _ scared _ . If he couldn’t love, then what fate was left for him? Nothing but loneliness and despair, nothing but being left behind in the dust while others moved on with their lives.

The witch frowned. « I can help, » She said. « But I won’t fix you. »

The boy stared, confused, and the brunette sighed. With a wave of her hand, a small book floated off a nearby shelf and came to rest on the coffee table. She pushed it towards Adrien.

« What is this, a spellbook? » 

« A pamphlet. » She said. « Magic won’t fix you, and neither will medicine or elaborate charms. This, however, might help. »

Adrien picked up the book. It was dusty and its pages were slightly damaged, like it had been opened countless times before. On the front cover were a drawing of a playing card pierced by an arrow, and large letters written in black ink;

_ Asexuality & Aromanticism _

« I-I don’t understand… » Adrien said, eyes darting from the book to the witch in front of him.

« There are people. » Marinette explained. « People who like you—and like me—don’t feel those kind of attractions towards anyone. Nothing can fix them, because they are not to be fixed. »

« How? »

The witch spoke softly. « Love is too complex to be limited to fickle definitions of romance and sex. If you care for people, friends, family and significant others alike. If you really, truly care for them, then it is Love. » She smiled at the boy. « Not feeling romantic or sexual attraction towards people doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You love in your own ways, and there is nothing to be fixed. »

Adrien looked up to her with restrained hope. He wanted to believe her, more than anything, but some things were still bothering him.

« I just… It would be so much easier if I could just like someone—anyone—and feel the way everyone says I should. »

« I would be easier, wouldn’t it? » Marinette smiled sadly. « But then so would many things… Because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s the right choice, and what people say you should want isn’t necessarily what’s best for you. »

Adrien was silent for a moment. This what a whole different spiel from what he was usually fed;  _ “You just need some time”, “You haven’t found the right person yet”, “Maybe you should see a doctor about it”, “You’re just too young to understand” _ ... He’d heard everything, and each comment was like a stab in the guts.

But he had nodded along to every single one of them, rolling with the punches and slowly believing in the lie that there was something that could be done, a way to make him “normal”, like everyone else.

« There’s this other witch I know, Chloé Bourgeois. » He said. « She’s a friend—well, not really a friend. But I know her, and she knows about my… Condition. She offered to brew me a potion, said it would fix me… »

Marinette leaned back in her chair with an amused smile. « And yet you came all the way here instead of taking up on her offer. »

« I wanted a second opinion. » The blonde admitted. « I guess this never bothered me until people started pointing it out as a problem. »

« People are ignorant. » Marinette said curtly. « They don’t know, and sometimes it takes some time for them to understand. Sometimes they never do, because they don’t want to. But as long as you are happy with how you love, then it’s not a problem, and nothing they’ll say can change that. You’re not broken; Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. »

Chloé more than anyone. She knew the bratty rich girl from her training as a witch, and ever since then their relationship had been more than antagonistic. The blonde had tried to jinx her, once, after a particularly bitter loss during an enchantment contest. She had cursed Marinette so that no one would ever want to sleep with her...  Little did she know she was doing the girl the biggest favour of all.

Adrien stared in silence. That was all he could do; No words came to him in that moment, and as that moment dragged on he started thinking that maybe no words would ever come to him anymore. He didn’t mind. For the first time in his life, there were no words needed. There was no one to contradict, nothing to explain, no reason to defend himself. With only a handful of words, this strange girl in front of him had lifted the burden that had been weighing down on his shoulders from the start. With a stern look and a helping hand, she had opened a whole new world of possibilities.

Because if he wasn’t alone in this; If, in the whole wide world, there was even just this one person—this odd, amazing witch with the giant blue eyes and the pigtails under her pointed black hat—who felt the same way… Then maybe he wasn’t broken. Maybe he could be happy like this, he could be himself, and he didn’t need to be fixed. Maybe it was all going to be okay.

« Thank you. » He said after a short silence. His words were simple, but the intensity behind them was nearly overwhelming. « Honestly. »

Marinette took his right hand, slowly, and with a small smile she carefully slipped a ring on the boy’s middle finger. 

« This ring, » The witch said. « Isn’t charmed or enchanted. But the power it holds is to remind you that you are never alone, and never to be fixed for how you love. » Her smile widened. « Wear it with pride, and you’ll see that it will keep you safer than any protection spells. »

Adrien smiled, and thanked her again, examining the ring on his finger. It was a simple black band, with no markings or gemstones, but elegant in its modest simplicity. The implication behind it, however, felt more liberating than any magic spell could ever have. It was a sign that he was okay, that he was whole, and that he belonged. 

« Come back anytime. » Marinette assured, and with a slight tap on the book Adrien was still holding, she added, « And if anyone gives you trouble for this, I’ll be more than happy to teach you a few jinxes. » She winked. « On the house. »

Adrien thanked her and bid her farewell before he left, only sparing the witch and her cottage one last longing look before disappearing into the trees.

He came back to visit the following year, and the one after that. He came with gifts and stayed for tea. One lazy afternoon, when their mugs were empty and kettle had gone cold, Adrien quietly admitted that something always brought him back to this place, this little magic shop in the countryside. His fingers danced as they twisted the simple black band around his finger, his emerald eyes never quite leaving the witch and the ring of her own. With a bashful smile and a blush on her cheek, the girl shared her secret; Although not bound by any enchantment or spell, the ring did hold a deeper magic to it. It represented the sense of community and the love that it held, a feeling that would always help him find the place where he truly belonged, a bond that was stronger than any magic.

The boy kept coming back after that. His visits grew more frequent and longer as seasons passed. With each of them he felt his bond to this house—and the witch who lived there—grow stronger, making it harder for him to leave, until one day he stopped leaving altogether. He stayed in that strange little house at the end of the path in the wood, and he learned the ways of spells and charms, and he never believed he needed to be fixed ever again.

There were stories—whispers in the streets, when no one else was listening—and people talked about the witch, her apprentice, and the matching black bands on their middle right finger. 

She wasn’t the most gifted of witches, and the shop wasn’t the most famous. But people knew that although the witch and the boy were never together, romantically or physically, the small cabin in the woods with the light coming through the windows and smoke coming from the chimney always held more love than any other place in town. 

And until the end, there was always a small wooden sign dangling from the door that read; 

_ Ladybug and Chat Noir’s - Potions & Charms. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and don't hesitate to comment if you want me to make more stories like this one (please, I live for your validation)! 
> 
> Thanks to the Rad Quad (TheCookieMonster77 & totallynotapumpkindonut) for beta-reading this and being super helpful and lovely, check out our ace-ML blog on tumblr @miraculace!


End file.
